


I like the way you love me

by ronsparkyspeirs



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Romance, humor? kinda, i never know if I’m being funny or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 01:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17992523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronsparkyspeirs/pseuds/ronsparkyspeirs
Summary: Logan almost ruins a good thing.





	I like the way you love me

 

 

 

He’s gone more often than not, wanderlust, as the professor had called it, but Logan thinks it’s mostly boredom. A school full of kids and tight assed teachers wasn’t his idea of fun, not matter how hot a certain redhead was. 

 

He took it for granted, took for granted how Marie doted on him whenever he was around. He grew used to the hugs whenever he returned, to the worshipful eyes that followed him any time he demonstrated some defense attack in the gym, he took for granted the way Marie used to tell him everything. Until one day she just didn’t. 

 

The change wasn’t so abrupt though, it came gradually, in pieces, until suddenly one day he’d noticed he’d been back at the mansion for two whole days and he’d yet to see her. It was little things at first, shy smiles instead of enthusiastic hugs, almost uncomfortable silence over breakfast, then it was other things too. Claiming to be busy whenever he asked her out for a ride on the bike, spending Friday nights with her little friends instead of with him, watching hockey in the tv room. He chalked it up to her being young, of course she wouldn’t want to spend every single waking moment with him when he could be crotchety at the best of times and had an inclination towards bar fights. He wouldn’t let anyone know, but it hurt a little, the sudden shift from being the center of her world to the old guy she would occasionally spend half an hour with. 

 

But then, then he noticed how she spent time with Summers. He’d walk in on them making breakfast at ungodly early hours on weekends, Marie giggling at some stupid joke Cyke said. He’d even seen Summers teaching her how to change the spark plugs on an old Ford truck out in the garage, and if that didn’t sting like a bitch, those were things  _ he  _ was supposed to be teaching Marie, not some goody two shoes. But he’d seen the look on her face, completely enraptured with whatever the other man was saying. She used to look at him like that once upon a time. 

 

That particular night he went out and picked a fight with the biggest motherfucker he could find. 

 

Then came their little outings,  _ errands _ , Marie had called them when he asked what the hell they did whenever they went out into the city. 

 

“I just help Scott buy stuff for around the mansion,” she shrugged, “It’s nice to give my opinion on things.” 

 

He wanted to tell her that he’d let her give her opinion on whatever she wanted, but for some reason he said nothing. Just grunted and stared at her until she blushed and let him know that Scott was waiting for her. 

 

If Logan had been any other kind of man, he would have put words into what he was feeling, jealousy being the main one. But Logan couldn’t remember ever feeling that way, jealousy was for insecure males who couldn’t keep their woman satisfied. Many women over the years had tried to make  _ him  _ jealous, vying for his attention, but never the other way around, he was above such childish emotions. All he knew was that every time he saw Marie smiling at Summers, it was like something got stuck in his chest, like a hot poker that not only hurt but pissed him the fuck off. 

 

Then one day he made a mistake, a big one. 

 

The day started off as usual, he woke up sweaty and in a bad mood, that should have been his first clue as to how the rest of the day would turn out. After showering he walked down to the kitchen, ready to finish off that six pack of Molson’s he’d stashed in the refrigerator when he heard her. Marie, laughing, soft music playing in the background. What he saw when he walked into the kitchen made him see red, Summers with his arms around Marie, her with her hands on his shoulders, they were dancing, or at least attempting to. 

 

“Don’t look down at your feet,” Scott, chuckled, “It will only make you lose concentration.” 

 

Marie giggled, her face flushed red, “How will I keep from stepping on your toes?” 

 

Cyke smiled that pretty boy smile, “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” 

 

And Marie ate it up, she grinned in return, that little gap between her teeth visible. By the time Summers spun her around, Logan had had enough. 

 

He walked through the doorway, making as much noise as possible, “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, voice rougher than usual. 

 

“Logan!” Marie gasped, and the two jumped away from each other, like guilty lovers. “Scott was just teaching me how to dance,” she explained, her voice breathy like it used to sound with him. 

 

He raised an eyebrow, “Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” 

 

Marie’s eyebrow furrowed, her mouth opening slightly in confusion, “What?” She asked, and he could see Summers behind her, straightening to his full height, fists clenched. 

 

Logan ignored her and went straight for the beer, he could feel their eyes on his back and if he was any less of a man, he’d gone running down to Jean’s lab to inform her of the little scene he’d just walked in on. Which was another thing he couldn’t understand, didn’t Jean notice how much time Scott spent with Marie? Didn’t it bother her that her fiance was putting the moves on a former student. 

 

“I’ll let you two finish whatever this is,” he told them, snidely. 

 

And for the rest of the day he’d been in a piss poor mood. Growling at anyone who spoke more than two words to him and getting a little rougher with the kids during a training session in the danger room. It got so bad that Storm told him to take the rest of the day off, to work on whatever had him up in arms. 

 

He was outside in the lawn, smoking a cigar when he smelt her coming. He put the cigar out and was about to walk inside again, not willing to entertain her just that moment when she stopped in front of him. Her brown eyes looking worried, “What’s up with you today?” she asks, her voice tender and it only infuriated him even more, what right did she have to ask about him after slowly distancing herself from him. 

 

“What do you care?” he asks back, glaring at her pretty face. 

 

“Well, sugar, if you’re going to be like this then I’ll just go back inside,” she sasses, and turns back towards the mansion with a flip of her hair and sashaying hips, and it might have been how she didn’t back down from his acidic tone, or the way it was the first time she’d ever called him that, but something in him snapped. 

 

“You know, he’s old enough to be your father,” he says, which is a goddamned exaggeration, if anyone was old enough to be anyone’s father around here, it was him. But Marie stops dead cold at his words, he can see her shoulders stiffening, but Logan’s never had good sense when it comes to women, especially this one. 

 

Slowly she turns back around, “What are you talking about?” she asks, her voice soft, giving him an out if he wants it. 

 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, your little crush on Scooter?” 

 

“That’s not what you think,” she responds, and he knows it in his marrow that she’s not lying but then what the fuck is it, this  _ thing  _ that they have? All that time spent together has to mean something. 

 

“Isn’t it?” he says, “Have half a mind to tell Jeannie,” Logan tells her, wants to see her reaction but her face remains passive. 

 

“Is that what you think of me?” she asks, her voice too quiet and fragile sounding. 

 

Logan sees tears shining in her eyes and all he can do is shrug in response. He wants to take his words back, desperately, wants to tell her that it’s okay with him if she’s fooling around with Summers, so long as she still makes time for him. He’s pathetic and his own anger is the only thing holding him back from apologizing. 

 

Marie quickly turns back and practically runs inside, Logan sighs and decides to go out to the nearest bar and try his chance at getting drunk. 

 

The next morning there’s a heavy pounding at his door, he turns to look at his clock and he’s only been asleep for two or three hours at the most. The pounding gets louder and Logan growls under his breath,  _ this better be a fucking emergency or someone’s getting three claws up the ass.  _

 

He yanks the door open only to find Jeannie on the other side, her face angry, her mouth set in a deep scowl, she brushes past him and shuts the door behind her, crosses her arms and stares in a way that would have him fidgeting if he wasn’t the Wolverine. 

 

“What?” he asks, annoyed at her. 

 

“Do you want to tell me why I had a crying Rogue knocking on my door last night?” she asks, one heeled toe tapping on the hardwood floor. 

 

“She  _ apologized,  _ Logan. For something she wasn’t guilty of.” 

 

He scoffs, “Not guilty? You should’a seen them Jeannie, all close in the kitchen, said they were dancing.” 

 

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him, and he’s shocked because she’s never been so curt with him. 

 

“Yeah, well, they’ve been getting awfully close lately, ‘s not my fault you can’t see what’s going on right under your nose.” 

 

Jean lets out a frustrated sound, and Logan’s positive that she would scream if she wasn’t sure that they’d be able to hear her outside in the hallway, “Scott dotes on Rogue like a little sister, that’s all, and you accused her of being the other woman. What is wrong with you?” 

 

Logan turns towards his dresser, pulls out a shirt and puts it on. “They’re always together, what the hell was I supposed to think?” 

 

Jean lets out a frustrated noise, “She missed you! You leave for months at a time, last time you were gone an entire year! She missed having someone to talk to, so she and Scott got close.” 

 

“What about her friends?” 

 

“It’s not the same! As much as Rogue has adapted to living here, her mutation holds her back from the others. They don’t understand what it’s like having to be careful all the time, one slip up and she could really hurt someone.” 

 

“And Scooter understands?” 

 

“Yes! They have a lot in common, actually. But Rogue would  _ never  _ think about Scott that way.” 

 

“Why not?” Logan asks, still not convinced. 

 

“Because she thinks about  _ you _ , that way, that’s why.” 

 

Logan is stunned into silence. He’d known exactly what Marie felt for him after the first time he woke up, after she almost killed him. She was young and unaccustomed to hiding her emotions, so it had been easy to see, the light in her eyes every time he came around,  _ fuck,  _ she had looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. It had made him uncomfortable at first, her youth, her honesty, but when she had never made a move or said anything he figured she’d been done with it. A silly crush, forgotten in the days of summer, he had breathed a sigh of relief when he had come back to find her dating the Cajun. 

 

But that was short lived and then he went away for a long time and when he came back, she’d been Scott’s, or at least he thought. 

 

“Listen, we both know that nothing untoward happened when you brought Rogue here,” Jean interrupts his thoughts, “But she’s never been a child, not in the way you think, and not even when you two met,” she tells him. 

 

And there must be confusion showing on his face because she elaborates, “Rogue had taken on three different people before she met you, two grown men and a teenaged boy, she wasn’t some fragile girl, Rogue was strong, to take on three different personalities and not go crazy? Believe me, that takes real strength.” 

 

“I’m not following,” Logan says, but he almost does, knows what Jean’s trying to get at. 

 

“Back then, of course it would have been wrong for you two to be together, you were both… damaged,” she says, quietly, and Logan is surprised he doesn’t feel a jolt of anger at her words, she was right, he’d been a mess when he met Marie. 

 

“But things are different now, she’s twenty-two, and you’ve grown up a lot,” Jean says, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. 

 

“She’s always been very taken with you, Logan,” she says, and it doesn’t sound like she’s referring to a crush anymore. With those final words Jean sashays out of his room, same way she came in, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

 

Logan goes to his bed and heavily falls upon it, he sits, hands on his knees for hours. It’s a lot to take in,  _ Marie _ , he briefly thinks that Jean is mistaken, wrong in her assumptions, otherwise Marie would have said something already, but then he realizes that he’s never given her a chance. He’s been such a dumb asshole, wrapped up in his own feelings he never stopped to think about her, never saw how much she cared for him. Took everything for granted. Logan doesn’t realize he’s walking out of his room and toward Marie’s until he’s standing in front of her door. 

 

He’s standing like an idiot, fists clenched, stance ready for a fight, it’s what he regresses to when he doesn’t know how to explain his emotions. He takes a deep breath and knocks on her door. He can hear her from the other side, as she rises from the bed, mattress dipping beneath her knees, he hopes to God she’s not wearing one of her flimsy nightgowns because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to say a goddamned thing if she is. 

 

She opens the door, a little out of breath, hair mussed like a woman who just got done loving a man, “Logan…” 

 

“I’m sorry, for being a dick,” he says, and wants to cringe because as far as confessions go, this is starting to be one of the worst. 

 

Her doe eyes widen, her red mouth, slightly gaping, “Come inside,” she responds, opening the door wider for him to slide through. 

 

“I’m sorry, alright. I shouldn’t have said those things, I—I wasn’t thinkin.’”

 

Marie closes the door behind him and goes around to sit on the edge of her bed, there’s a copy of a book of poems Logan had gotten her the year before, she’d not so subtly made it clear to him that it’s what she had wanted. 

 

“Jeannie straightened me out,” he tells her. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

Logan goes to sit next to her, can feel the heat of her body despite all the layers in between, her pale hands ungloved and if he was sure she wouldn’t take them away, he’d grab a hold of her hand. But he doesn’t, practically has to sit on his own hands to keep from touching her. 

 

“Is that all you came to tell me?” she asks. 

 

He can’t help the growl that escapes his mouth, he’s no good at this. “She also said, some other things. Things that got me thinkin’”

 

“What things?” 

 

A little furrow between her brow appears and Logan realizes that Marie has no idea how adorable she is, he clears his throat, “Things about us. Me an’ you.” 

 

“ _ Oh. _ ” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

The silence that envelops them borders on the uncomfortable but Marie’s finally the one to break it. “And?” she asks, her eyebrow raised, a mannerism of his, she was never able to shake. 

 

“And what, darlin’?” 

 

“You came in here for something, or did you just want to apologize?” 

 

_ God, _ he should have known she wouldn’t make this any easier on himself, why would she. But Logan’s a soldier, always been one to jump straight into everything, without abandon, so he grits his teeth, sweat pooling in his palms, beneath his armpits, on his upper lip. Christ, if she only knew what she did to him. 

 

He figures the only way he’s going to get through this is to just dive right in, “Look, Marie, I know I’ve been a dick, I tried to pretend like you were just some kid I promised to take care of.” 

 

She turns on the bed, her legs folding under her as she moves to look at him more directly, “You were young, darlin,’ I had no business lookin’ to you for anything, but,” he shrugs, unable to put into words what it is he felt each time he returned to the mansion. 

 

Seeing her face light up at the sight of him, Marie helping him carry his pack up the stairs to his room even though he could do it himself. Bringing him a cold beer because she knew he’d be thirsty, sitting with him at dinner time just to keep him company, it was little things she did. She acted like his  _ wife _ , and it had felt damn good, but she’d been a teenager for the first couple of years, it hadn’t been right to enjoy her attentions, and sometimes it felt like he was taking advantage. So he kept up pretenses, even after she turned eighteen, he played the part of her friend, her protector, the guy who’d threaten any other man who went sniffing around her. 

 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you didn’t matter,” Logan finally says, “You’re everything Marie, you know that, right?” 

 

He turns to look at her, and is horrified to see tears in her eyes, “Kid, baby, what’s wrong? I say something?” 

 

Marie shakes her head, but she keeps crying, Logan wipes his thumbs under her eyes, too fast for her skin to pull anything from him. He wraps his arms around her, pulls her in close like he did back on that train, years ago. 

 

“Darlin’ I hate seeing you cry.” 

 

Marie sniffs, wipes a sleeve under her nose and looks up at him through teary eyes, “I never thought you’d pull your head outta your ass,” she tells him. 

 

The way she says it, startles a genuine laugh out of Logan, she grins at him, her eyes lighting with mischief. “I’m sorry, darlin,’ I know I can be a real prick, sometimes.” 

 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, leaning forward so their noses almost touch, her gaze is set on his lips and she’s so close he can feel her warm breath on his face. 

 

“Can I?” she asks, pupils dilated, a soft honey scent wafting through his nose. 

 

“Yeah,” he breathes, and then her lips are on his, plump and sweet. He starts feeling dizzy and only then does she pull away. 

 

Marie licks her lower lip, her eyes half-lidded, “Really?” she asks, and Logan is only a little dazed that he doesn’t understand her meaning until she explains. 

 

“You’re in my head, again.” 

 

“You get everything?” 

 

She nods, “Pretty much, is it true?”

 

“Every last word.” 

 

Logan lays back on the bed, scooting them up to lay on the pillows while his healing factor works to catch up with her mutation, he drags her half on top of him, her head laying on his chest. She rests a hand on top of his chest. 

 

“Me too,” she says, very quietly. 

 

“Huh?” 

 

“I love you, too.” 

 

“I know darlin,’ I know.” 

  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
